


Don't You Want Me Baby?

by Joanorbis



Series: Pezberry Week 16 [2]
Category: Glee
Genre: F/F
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-06-23
Updated: 2016-06-23
Packaged: 2018-07-16 17:41:22
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 6
Words: 14,257
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7277614
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Joanorbis/pseuds/Joanorbis
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Written for Pezberry Week 2016. Thursday - Why can't Rachel and Santana stop having sex with each other?</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

Chapter 1

 

Rachel chewed on the end of her pen and allowed herself a few moments to appreciate the view. She knew she should be working on the biology assignment but seeing as Santana had done nothing but flick through a magazine for the last half hour she didn’t see the harm in slacking for a while.

 

Santana was lying with her back to her so she let her eyes drift lazily up her toned, tan legs from the pristine white sneakers to the short, pleated skirt of her Cheerios uniform. She imagined the bright red spanks underneath it and thought back to the times in glee when she had caught sight of them as Santana had performed a twirl or a particularly vigorous dance move. She remembered dancing next to her on top of a table in the cafeteria. We Got the Beat, indeed. Rachel had nearly fallen off the table when Santana had bent her knees and thrust that perfect ass in her direction, so close she could have reached out and touched it. And when she had straightened up and looked over her shoulder at her as she pushed her hand through her hair...well, anyone less professional would have botched their next line.

 

“This song is boring,” Santana drawled, flicking over a page in irritation.

 

“Huh?” Rachel’s pen dropped out of her mouth as her brain switched back on. “Right. Okay. What do you want to listen to?”

 

“Whatever. Something not boring.”

 

Rachel pushed herself up to her knees and tucked her hair behind her ears as she crawled towards the edge of the bed. She swung her legs off and stood up, losing her balance slightly as her blood resumed proper service to her legs, and she staggered back, reaching out to steady herself on the bed and grazing her fingers lightly down the back of Santana’s calf as she did.

 

“Sorry,” she muttered, glancing up at the latina as she pushed herself upright, noticing with interest the way the girl tensed slightly at her touch, her eyes snapping away from her magazine to the point where Rachel’s hand had made contact.

 

She wandered over to her laptop and tried to focus her mind on picking some music that Santana would appreciate. Musicals were out, that was a given, as was anything ‘boring’, by which she assumed that all ballads would also not be appreciated. Which left her with… Madonna? She loaded up her Like a Prayer album, pressed play and the music filled the room. Satisfied with her choice she glanced over her shoulder to gauge Santana’s reaction and caught her staring at her ass, fingers stroking across her stomach.

 

“Better?” Rachel asked thickly.

 

“Hmm?” Santana murmured, her eyes snapping up to meet Rachel’s quickly before returning to her magazine. “Yeah, it’ll do.”

 

Rachel smiled and moved back onto the bed, kneeling by Santana’s knees, dangerous thoughts swarming her brain. She had been fantasizing about Santana for months, way more frequently than she would like, and try as she might she couldn’t stop. When she had a song stuck in her head she usually found the only way to get rid of it was to listen to it, but sadly when it was a person endlessly consuming your thoughts, particularly one that didn’t like you all that much, that wasn’t really an option. 

 

Santana shot her a quick look as she turned the page of her magazine. “What are you doing?”

 

“Nothing.”

 

“That’s not like you, Berry,” she smirked, her eyes dropping back to the page. “Thought you were all about the work.”

 

That goddamn smirk. Rachel hated that smirk. It made her feel like shit and turned her on in equal measure. It wasn’t fair. Her brain, usually so busy filtering through every possible outcome of her actions, now had only one direction it would seem. She shifted uncomfortably and looked down at her books in an effort to knock her mind’s needle out of it’s groove.

 

“So,” she coughed. “Biology? Are you going to help me?”

 

“Wanky,” Santana smirked, breaking Rachel’s resolve completely.

 

She sighed and dropped her hands to her books, closing her eyes as she set her mind to fixing this problem once and for all. She shifted to the side so her legs were out from under her and her body was inches away from Santana, rested her weight on her left hand and traced her fingers lightly up Santana’s thigh.

 

“What are you doing, Berry?” Santana asked, her body still, hand hovering above her magazine as her eyes moved to her thigh.

 

“An experiment,” she answered, emboldened by the fact that Santana had made no effort to stop her. Slowly she drifted her fingers down the front of her thigh and up towards those damn spanks.

 

“Rachel,” Santana husked, grabbing her hand as it got within inches of the red fabric. “What are you doing?”

 

“Well,” she looked up at her darkening eyes. “I’m trying to turn you on.”

 

Santana sat up quickly, Rachel’s hand still in her own. “No shit, Sherlock,” she laughed harshly. “Why?”

 

Rachel’s breath quickened, her heart pounding as she tried to determine which way Santana was going to go. “What do you mean?”

 

“What do I mean?” Santana chuckled drily, pushing her hand away. “You’re in love with Finn, you’re straight, you hate me...”

 

“Well maybe,” she said softly, placing her leg in between Santana’s and her hands either side of her hips, moving slowly up her body, her eyes raking over her chest and up to her lips. “I’m not so into Finn as everyone assumes. I’m definitely not so straight as I’ve been thinking about you like this for months, and I have never done anything to suggest that I hate you, much as you deserve it for all the...”

 

“Rachel,” she replied breathily, moving back so as to stay just out of reach as far as the bed would allow. “Stop it.”

 

“Santana,” Rachel paused reluctantly, her face close to the other girl’s, feeling the quick breath on her face as Santana’s heaving chest betrayed the cool exterior. “I want you. I’ve been trying to fight this for months but I just can’t any more. And I know you want it too.”

 

“Do you?” Santana said roughly as she pushed her up quickly, swapping their positions as Rachel lost her balance and fell back onto the bed, the irate latina pinning her hands above her head. “How could you possibly know what I want, Berry, huh?” She snarled as she hovered over her, her eyes dark as she stared down at the brunette, her knees either side of her. “Maybe I’ll just fuck you into the mattress and make you feel things Hudson never will, teach you not to fuck around with me anymore, how would you like that, huh?”

 

“Oh God, please tell me you’re not joking,” Rachel gasped, eyes closing as a jolt of electricity shot straight to her core.

 

“What?” Santana stuttered, easing back slightly and relaxing her grip.

 

“I’m not fucking with you, Santana,” she sighed, locking eyes with her imploringly. “I can’t stop thinking about you. And I know you want me too.”

 

“Oh, really?” Santana sneered. “And how’s that?”

 

“Because if you didn’t you wouldn’t be pinning me to the bed right now,” she said, nervous but too far into this to back out. She ran her hand up the back of Santana’s thigh, her breath catching in her throat as the girl’s eyes slammed shut and she sucked in a breath. “You can’t tell me you haven’t thought about this.”

 

“Fuck,” Santana swore softly, her head dipping forwards. “You’re awfully…” she paused to suck in a harsh breath. “Sure of yourself.”

 

“Tell me I’m wrong,” Rachel breathed in her ear before pulling at her earlobe gently with her teeth

 

Santana sucked in a breath as Rachel’s fingers traced the line of her underwear and  her hips bucked as she dropped her forehead onto the bedspread.

 

“Shit...”

 

“Tell me,” she whispered as she pressed kisses along Santana’s jaw and circled her entrance. “Tell me you don’t want this.”

 

“Rach…” Santana pushed up on her elbows, shaking as she slid her hand down Rachel’s arm. “I…”

 

“What?” Rachel slowed her hand, for the first time thinking that maybe she was wrong. She looked up at Santana’s face, her beautiful brown eyes, darker than usual, heavy with arousal and something else she had seen a few times at school but couldn’t pinpoint. 

 

Santana groaned and pulled away, sitting back on her haunches and smoothing her hair down. She drew in a shaky breath and reached over for her bag. “Your parents are right downstairs, Berry.”

 

“So?” Rachel laughed softly, sitting up as relief flooded through her. “My room is soundproofed. They won’t hear a thing.”

 

“I’m not going to fuck you with your dads in the house, Berry! What if they walk in?”

 

Rachel grabbed hold of Santana’s hand as the latina jumped off the bed, kneeling up so their eyes were level. “Is that the only reason?” She asked quietly.

 

“Berry…”

 

Slowly she pulled Santana towards her as she reached up and stroked her face, drawing her in closer as she held her breath. Santana’s eyes shot up to meet her own, her lips slightly parted as she swallowed thickly, giving Rachel the courage she needed to press the latina’s hand to her breast, biting down on her lip as Santana’s eyes fluttered closed at the contact.

 

“I can lock the door if it makes you feel better,” she whispered, her lips skirting the girl’s cheek.

 

Santana’s eyes snapped open and she pulled away quickly, backing up until she smacked into the door. “I gotta gay,” she muttered, shaking her head as she reached for the handle and coughed. “Go. I gotta go. I’ll see you at school, Berry.”

 

“Santana, wait,” Rachel called after her as she shot out the door and slammed it shut behind her. “Shit,” she whispered, flopping down on the bed, her heart pounding as she realised what she’d done.


	2. Chapter 2

Chapter 2

 

Santana sighed as she opened her locker and pulled out her books. She didn’t even know why she bothered attending Spanish class, let alone take books. She usually spent the forty minutes writing down her thoughts so she kept her ‘Spanish’ books clutched tightly to her or locked up, not that anyone in this school would be able to understand them after they had been taught by Mr Schue. She had never been more grateful for this fact than today, given the thoughts that had been swirling around her head all morning.

 

Rachel Berry.

 

What the fuck was going on? If she was completely honest with herself she had it bad for Berry and had done for years, but, as part of the whole sexually confused thing, she had acted the way anybody would have and tortured the girl mercilessly. Was this payback? Had Berry somehow figured it out and decided to get her revenge?

 

She sighed and slammed her locker shut, forcing a smile onto her face as she fell into step beside Quinn.

 

“Rumour has it that the theme for Sectionals is ‘sexy’,” the blonde drawled as they strode down the corridor, the crowds parting before them. “God help us.”

 

“Right,” she snorted. “Unless they’re planning on promoting the Unholy Trinity to center stage we don’t stand a chance.”

 

“What, you don’t think Berry and her heartfelt grimaces will get us through?” Quinn laughed.

 

“Please,” she rolled her eyes, stomach tightening. “Artie has more sex appeal than Berry, especially when she has your flabby ex flailing around her grunting like a constipated walrus. Honestly, Q, I don’t know how you put up with that useless mound of flesh for so long.”

 

“Finn was fine before he got tainted with Berry...juice.” Quinn curled her lip in disgust as she opened her locker.

 

“Wanky,” Santana muttered, leaning against the gray metal and glancing about the halls idly as she tried desperately to not think about what had almost happened the night before.

 

“Ew, gross, Santana,” she wrinkled her nose as she slammed her locker shut and leaned against it next to her friend. “You don’t really think they slept with each other, do you?”

 

“No,” she said, catching sight of the girl in question heading down the corridor towards them, books clutched tightly to her chest even as she held her head up high.

 

“Good,” Quinn smiled.

 

“Oh, God,” Santana drawled, forcing her eyes away from Rachel and back to her friend. “You’re still into him, aren’t you?”

 

“Maybe,” she smirked.

 

“Aren’t you meant to be with trouty mouth?”

 

“For now.”

 

She scoffed and turned quickly, surprised to see Rachel standing right next to her.

 

“Hey, Berry,” she muttered.

 

“Uh, hey,” Rachel ducked her head and tucked her hair behind her ear. “I just, er, it occurred to me that we never finished our assignment.”

 

“Can’t you just do it?” Santana sighed. “We both know you’re more than capable.”

 

“Well, Santana, you know that this assignment was given to both of us and therefore we should really…”

 

“Berry…” she sighed, holding her hand up and squaring her shoulders. “Much as I love your little spurts of verbosity I have to get to class so, in the interest of saving time, what is it that you want?”

 

Rachel glanced nervously at Quinn and inched closer. “I want to finish our assignment. When are you free?”

 

“I’m free everyday,” she shrugged. “It’s in the constitution.”

 

Rachel smiled at the reference and hugged her books closer. “Great. So when do you want to come over?”

 

“Ah, I don’t know, Berry,” Santana’s stomach tightened and she folded her arms quickly as if to hide it. “How about I let you know later, huh?”

 

“Oh...okay,” Rachel stuttered, backing into the stream of students and glancing about. “I’ll, er, I’ll talk to you later then.”

 

Santana watched as she melted into the crowd, her eyes dropping to her ass as the heat pooled between her legs, her mouth dry.

 

“Hello?” Quinn’s voice snapped her out of her stupor. “Am I missing something?”

 

“What?” She answered quickly, pushing away from the locker and walking towards her class as the bell chimed. “No. Why?”

 

“Since when are you and Berry hanging out at each other’s houses?”

 

“We’re not hanging out, I went over there last night for this stupid Biology assignment.”

 

“And you have to go back because…?”

 

“Because her awful taste in music and decor drove me out before we could finish.”

 

“Right,” Quinn drawled, pushing past her and heading off to her own class. “I’ll see you at practice.”

 

* * *

  


Santana pushed her books into her locker and slammed it shut. This had been one hell of a day and she wanted it over with but now, of course, she had Cheerios practice. She turned and headed off to the locker room, yawning as she went. She hadn’t gotten much sleep last night, too turned on and frustrated to do anything other than obsess over the evening’s events and…

 

“Santana.”

 

She stopped, startled by the voice breaking the silent hallway.

 

“What are you doing here, Berry? You lost?”

 

“Uh, no, I just, er,” she sighed, tucking her hair behind her ear. “Look, you didn’t message me and I really think we need to get this assignment done so you should just come over to mine and deal with it.”

 

“Ah, you sure that’s a good idea, Berry?” Santana’s stomach clenched again even as she smirked. “Don’t you think it would be better to meet somewhere else?”

 

“No,” she answered, her eyes darting about the hallway as she stepped closer. “I think that it would be best if we continued where we left off. Don’t you?”

 

Santana tried to keep her face neutral as her stomach flipped uncomfortably. What the fuck was going on? Was Rachel Berry propositioning her?

 

“I don’t know, Berry,” she looked down as she shifted her feet uncomfortably. “Maybe it’s not such a good idea.”

 

“Right,” Rachel cleared her throat and took a step back. “Probably not.” She turned to walk away, stopping after a few meters and looking over her shoulder coyly. “But if you change your mind my dads are out this evening.”

 

* * *

 

 

Santana flopped down on her bed and stared up at the ceiling. Coach Sylvester had worked them hard tonight and her body was sore. All she wanted was to take a long, hot bath and go to sleep but she couldn’t keep her mind off Rachel Berry. She ran her fingers over her stomach as she remembered the night before and she turned her head, her eyes resting on her closet.

 

Could she do it? Could she actually go to Berry’s house in the knowledge that she was probably going there to fuck her? Being at the girl’s house and having her throw herself at her was one thing, she was only human after all and Rachel Berry was...well, not that she would admit it out loud, but that girl had something. And fuck if she didn’t know how to work a girl up.

 

She sighed and sat up, pushing herself off the bed and walking towards the closet. When she reached it she paused and took a breath, her hands shaking as they rested on the handles. Was she really considering this? She shook her head and pulled the closet open, rifling through it for a suitable outfit.

 

Apparently she was more than considering it.

 

* * *

 

 

Santana squared her shoulders and rang the bell, waiting like an idiot until her nerve failed her and she turned away, only for the door to be yanked open and a dripping wet Rachel Berry to appear wrapped in a towel.

 

“Hey, sorry, I, uh, I thought you weren’t going to, uh…” Rachel smiled nervously and held the door open. “Come in.”

 

Santana ran her eyes over the girl’s body, the way the damp towel clung to her causing her breath to catch. She forced her mouth shut and swallowed as she took a step forward, grateful for the semi darkness she had been standing in when Rachel had appeared.

 

“Yeah,” she croaked, clearing her throat in embarrassment as she walked through the door. “Sure.”

 

She gazed around the room, wondering idly where Rachel’s dads were as Rachel walked past her and up the stairs, looking over her shoulder with a look that said she should follow. She took a shaky breath and headed up the stairs, pulling her backpack strap tighter as she went. This was nuts. What the fuck was she doing?

 

Rachel reached the top of the stairs and pushed open her bedroom door, walking into the room and heading for her bathroom. Santana followed her in and closed the door, turning uncertainly to glance about the room as her heart pounded out an unsteady rhythm in her chest. Rachel paused with her hand on the doorframe and then turned slowly to face her.

 

“I, er, I… just give me a second to get dressed,” she said with a nervous smile before going into the bathroom and closing the door.

 

Santana nodded, then shook her head in irritation as she realised that she was now alone in the room and took a deep breath to try and get the blood back to her brain where it belonged. She wandered over to the bed and sat down on it, her fingers playing idly with the strap on her bag. Suddenly the bathroom door opened again and Rachel walked out, still in the towel, a rueful smile on her face.

 

“I just realised I don’t have any clothes in there,” she explained as she walked over to her closet.

 

“Right,” Santana chuckled, her eyes trained on the girl’s towel clad ass, her mouth going dry at the sight. After a few seconds she sensed eyes on her and looked up to see Rachel staring back at her, eyes dark. She cleared her throat and stared down at her hands, her pulse racing as she saw the girl start to move towards her out of the corner of her eye.

 

“I’m glad you came,” she said as she stopped in front of her, so close that their knees were touching.

 

“Yeah, well you know me,” Santana murmured, moving her leg unconsciously between Rachel’s. “All about the work.”

 

She ran her hands up the damp towel, cupping Rachel’s ass as the girl leaned down and crashed their lips together, pushing her back onto the bed and driving her tongue into her mouth as she climbed on top of her.

 

Her head fuzzy, Santana dropped her hands down to Rachel’s thighs, tracing her fingers lightly under the towel as the girl bucked on top of her, teeth biting gently into her tongue. Slowly she dipped her hand in between her legs, her breath quickening as she felt Rachel’s arousal, sliding her fingers up towards her center.

 

Rachel broke their kiss with a moan and pushed her groin into her touch, glazed eyes looking down on her own as she moved against her hand.

 

“Fuck, San, uh…”

 

Santana rolled her over and moved her hand round to the front, kissing her throat and moving up to her mouth gently as she pulled open the towel, feeling Rachel’s naked body beneath her for the first time. Slowly, she moved her mouth down her neck, kissing down her chest until she reached her nipple, skirting it teasingly before running her tongue over it, Rachel’s hips rising up against her in response.

 

Rachel brought her hand up and ineffectively tried to push Santana’s jacket off. She whined gently as she got no help and pushed herself up, forcing Santana to release her nipple with a look of annoyance.

 

“What the fuck?”

 

“I want to see you,” Rachel breathed. “I want to feel you.”

 

Santana looked into her eyes, chocolate brown completely swallowed by a deep arousal, her hooded gaze sending a jolt to her stomach, and shrugged her jacket off quickly.

 

“Better?”

 

“No,” she replied hotly, dragging her blunt nails up her stomach and pulling her top over her head. “I’m totally naked, you are fully clothed. Not fair.”

 

“God,” Santana moaned as Rachel’s mouth latched onto her breast. “Who are you?”

 

Rachel slid her lips down her jaw, sucking on her neck as she moved down to her breasts, hands cupping them and teasing her nipples as her lips moved between them, tongue sliding a trail down her abs, biting gently as she undid her pants and pushed them down her legs, taking her underwear with them.

 

“God, you’re beautiful,” she said softly as she rocked on her heels and raked her eyes over Santana’s body.

 

“Alright, whatever,” she muttered, sitting up and pulling her into a kiss to distract herself from the feelings rushing through her.

 

“Hey,” Rachel said, pulling away slightly. “What’s wrong?”

 

“Nothing,” she smiled as she pushed the girl down and onto her back. “So how do you want to do this?”

 

“What?” Rachel asked, an uncertain look on her face.

 

“You want me to fuck you, right?” Santana asked, trailing her fingers up Rachel’s thigh. “So do you want to be on your back or…?”

 

“Santana,” she said softly. “If you’re not comfortable with this then…”

 

“Hey, no, it’s fine,” Santana smiled, as she leant over her, pushing her down onto the bed and kissing her softly, intensifying the kiss as she ran her fingers up Rachel’s slit. No way was she letting her wayward emotions get the best of her.

 

“San…” Rachel moaned.

 

“This what you want, Berry?” She asked, pushing inside her slowly.

 

“Oh, God…”

 

She pulled back a bit, kissing down her neck before pushing back in, rubbing her thumb roughly over her nipple, pushing her breast up with her palm.

 

“Fuck, Santana,” Rachel moaned, sliding her hands down her back and grabbing her ass.

 

Santana sucked hard on her neck, following her moans as a guide. She had thought about this, a lot, but the reality was...God, so much better. Gently she kissed over the area she had marked and stroked at her skin as she continued her movements, the heat in her loins building with each thrust.

 

“Harder,” Rachel moaned softly, rocking her hips up against her.

 

Breath catching in her throat at the command she complied, thrusting deeper into Rachel and moving her free hand up to her head, sliding her fingers through her hair and pulling her into a kiss as she fucked her, every thrust building her own arousal. Rachel’s moans got louder, her fingers digging into her ass like she could force her deeper, like she wanted her deeper, so Santana pushed, and pushed, fucking the girl like she wanted, pressing her face into the pillow as she felt herself building to an unexpected climax. She felt Rachel’s hand reaching for her face as her moans increased, her lips pressing against her ear, her cheek, the corner of her mouth as she accidentally turned her face upwards. Quickly she snapped her head back, moaning into the pillow as Rachel came loudly and dragged her nails down her back, causing her to orgasm unexpectedly and push harder into the girl than she had wanted.

 

“Oh, fu...Santana…” Rachel gasped. “Jesus….oh, fuck...hunh…”

 

Slowly she ran her hands up and down Santana’s back, her hips periodically bucking up against her as she let out breathy moans. With a sigh she dropped her cheek to Rachel’s breast and pulled out of her gently. She felt Rachel’s kiss repeatedly fall on the top of her head as she tried to pull her up. Eventually she gave in and allowed herself to be pulled into a kiss, her stomach shifting so uncomfortably that she closed her eyes.

 

“Hey,” Rachel said, kissing her eyelids gently. “Are you okay?”

 

“Of course,” she answered, forcing a smile and kissing her lips lightly. “Why wouldn’t I be?”

 

“Santana, I…”

 

“Ssh,” she whispered, silencing her with her lips. “Just...shush, okay?”

 

“Why won’t you look at me?” Rachel grabbed her face with both hands and looked deep into her eyes.

 

“I’m looking at you,” she chuckled, meeting her eyes briefly dropping her gaze again in discomfort.

 

“Santana…”  


“Jesus, Rachel,” Santana sighed, rolling over and throwing her legs over the side of the bed. “Can’t you just ever shut up?”

 

“I’m sorry, please…”

 

“No, look, it’s fine,” she sighed, standing up and reaching for her underwear. “I need to go. I’ll see you at school.”

 

“Santana, please, don’t go.”

 

“Sorry, early practice tomorrow.” Santana pulled on her pants and grabbed her shirt and jacket as she bolted for the door. “Sleep well.”

  
She slammed the door behind her and took a breath before she ran down the stairs.


	3. Chapter 3

Chapter 3

 

Rachel walked into the cafeteria and looked around quickly, turning and walking out again as soon as she had established that Santana was not there. She hadn’t seen the girl all day and she wasn’t answering her texts. She desperately wanted to talk to her about what had happened last night and every moment that the girl remained silent only deepened her panic and confusion.

 

Her stomach tightened as she thought back to it, a sensation half pleasurable, half tinged with regret. The sex had been amazing, better even than she had imagined it, but the fact that Santana wouldn’t look at her during or after had really freaked her out. Rachel had been sure that the girl wanted it as much as she did, otherwise why had she come? But something had felt off during the entire encounter and Rachel couldn’t quite work out what. As usual, Santana remained a mystery.

 

She turned the corner and came face to face with the girl in question, flanked on either side by Brittany and Quinn. Her face flushed at the unexpected encounter and a smile tugged at her lips.

 

“Hey, er, hi,” she stuttered, her heart sinking slightly as Santana looked down at the ground and folded her arms across her stomach. “I was...I mean, I’ve been looking for you.”

 

“Well here I am,” she smiled tightly. “What’s up?”

 

“I kind of need to talk to you,” Rachel said, her own arms now clutched in front of her. “About the, ah, the assignment?”

 

“You two still haven’t finished the assignment?” Quinn asked, hazel eyes flicking between the two of them suspiciously. “It’s really not that hard.”

 

“It kind of is when you can’t stand your partner.” Santana muttered, shifting uncomfortably as she stared at the floor.

 

Rachel felt the heat rise in her face as her stomach twisted in a knot, an overwhelming feeling that she was about to burst into tears crushing her heart. “You know what, never mind,” she muttered as she stepped around them and headed up the corridor as fast and calmly as she could.

 

“Santana…” she heard Brittany say quietly as she marched away from them, the rest of the sentence lost as she reached the next corner and somehow managed to hold herself back from breaking into a sprint. Just as her emotions won the battle she reached the auditorium and pushed through the doors gratefully, hot tears spilling down her cheeks as a wave of shame and embarrassment flooded over her.

 

How could she have been such an idiot? In what world would her having sex with Santana Lopez ever have ended well? She marched down the steps towards the stage and wiped angrily at her cheeks. There was no point in crying about it, she had made a bad decision and would now have to live with the consequences. She slammed her fist down on the edge of the stage as she reached it and then rested her hands on it, pushing back as she bit down on the urge to scream.

 

Finally she wrestled her emotions back under control and stood up straight, running her hands through her hair as she turned around and leaned heavily on the stage. She looked out over the empty auditorium with a sigh. “Idiot,” she whispered as she shook her head.

 

Her attention was drawn to movement at the top of the stairs and she sucked in a harsh breath as she realised Santana had entered the room and was making her way slowly down the stairs, her posture tense and her eyes guarded. Rachel froze in position and watched as the girl came closer, her jaw clenched so the hurt, angry words wouldn’t come flooding out.

 

“I shouldn’t have said that, I’m sorry,” Santana said quietly as she arrived in front of the stage. Her words took Rachel by surprise and she could do nothing but stand there speechless. “It’s just that you were being really obvious and I…” she shook her head in an apparent effort to find the end of her sentence before huffing in frustration and pulling herself up to sit on the stage next to where Rachel was standing.

 

Still in a state of shock at the unprecedented apology Rachel held her position and looked at the other girl cautiously out of the corner of her eye. Santana shoved her hands under her thighs and gazed around the auditorium as though her next line was pinned up somewhere around the walls.

 

“I don’t know what’s happening,” she said softly after a few minutes. “I bolted last night and I’ve been trying to avoid you all day. That’s not okay. I know that.”

 

“Why?” Rachel asked hesitantly, afraid to anger the girl but desperately needing to know.

 

“I don’t know, Rachel!” Santana’s voice was thick with emotion. “You just...I just freaked out, I guess.”

 

She turned her head away and shot her hand up quickly to wipe her cheek. Rachel reached out for her other hand and tugged it out from under her leg, holding it in both of her own and stroking it gently.

 

“I’m sorry,” she whispered.

 

“What are you sorry for?” Santana asked with a wet laugh, her eyes still on the wall to their right.

 

“I don’t know,” she replied honestly after a moment.

 

Santana chuckled at this, finally turning to face her. “You’ve got nothing to be sorry for, Berry,” she said with a sad smile, reaching out to stroke her face gently before jumping off the stage and making to leave.

 

“Please don’t go,” Rachel whispered, her hands still clutching Santana’s. She stopped with her back to her, arm extended behind her, not pulling away but not turning back either. “Please, Santana…”

 

She pulled gently on Santana’s arm and slowly she began to turn back, her eyes locked on the floor as she swallowed thickly. Rachel moved closer until their bodies were almost touching, cupping Santana’s face with her hand and kissing her tentatively. After a moment she felt the taller girl relax slightly, almost as if she were giving in, and she deepened the kiss, sliding her hands into her hair as she pressed their bodies together. Santana’s hands slid up her back and pulled her in closer, reigniting the fire in her belly and causing all the sensations of the night before to come roaring back. She moaned into Santana’s mouth at the memory and her eyes snapped open in alarm as the other girl pulled away quickly.

  
“I’m sorry, Rachel, I can’t,” she said quickly, turning and practically sprinting up the stairs leaving Rachel to stare after her in confusion.


	4. Chapter 4

Chapter 4

 

Santana sat on her bed, her knees hugged into her chest, music playing softly in the background as a maelstrom of emotions rushed through her. She was trying desperately to make sense of what was happening to her but she was so conflicted she couldn’t think straight. This time last week everything had been so simple. Sure, she’d had sex with girls before but it didn’t mean anything. She liked sex. So what? It didn’t mean anything.

 

So why did this feel like it meant something?

 

She closed her eyes and flopped back onto the bed, curling up into the foetal position and hugging her pillow. This was so fucked up. Why was this happening to her? Her life was set. She got good grades, had a family that loved her, she was hot, she was one of the most popular girls at school, she was a cheerleader, for God’s sake. There was no way she was gay. And for Rachel Berry, of all people! It was like some sick, cosmic joke.

 

“This is such bullshit!” She yelled, flinging her pillow across the room as she sat up and wincing as it crashed into her laptop and knocked it to the floor. She sighed and pulled herself off the bed to inspect the damage. “Goddammit.”

 

She set the laptop back on her desk and sat down heavily on the bed. There was nothing else for it. She was just going to have to avoid Rachel at all costs until these feelings went away. It shouldn’t be that hard, it’s not like they usually spent any time together anyway, except in Biology and Glee, and that would be manageable unless they were forced to be alone together.

 

Her fingers wandered unconsciously to her lips as her mind drifted back to the auditorium. She had felt bad about what she said to Rachel in the hall but she could have dealt with it if Brittany hadn’t pointed out that the girl looked like she was about to cry, something Santana hadn’t picked up on as she had been studiously avoiding eye contact. Something had snapped in her at Britt’s words and suddenly she couldn’t bear the thought that she had hurt Rachel so she had followed her down the hall, into the auditorium and watched her little meltdown from the top of the stairs.

 

Why did she care so much? She had never cared about upsetting anybody before. Well, she cared, obviously, but not enough to apologise about it. She was Santana Lopez, bitchy comments were her trademark. She had tried to justify it to herself by believing that the girl would be feeling vulnerable because they had just had sex, but the truth she had realised whilst sitting on that stage was that she was the one feeling vulnerable, and that hadn’t happened since Puck convinced her to do it her first time.

 

Usually sex made her feel powerful, or at least sated. Now she just felt scared and confused.

 

* * *

 

  


“What is with you today?” Quinn asked breathlessly as they stood on the touchline, hands on their knees, trying to catch their breath at the end of Sue’s course of suicide sprints.

 

“Nothing, I’m just tired.”

 

“Yeah, you keep saying that. Someone keeping you up?”

 

Santana shot her a look and started walking towards the locker room.

 

“Seriously, are you okay?”

 

“I told you, Q, I’m fine,” she huffed, walking faster to stay ahead of the blonde. “Jesus, can’t a girl be tired?”

 

“A girl can, but not you,” Quinn shot back as she caught her up. “We’ve been on this squad together for two years and I’ve never known you to show the slightest weakness. You don’t get ill, you barely break a sweat. Honestly, Santana, you’re kind of freaking me out.”

 

“It’s nothing, it’s just...I’ve just got some stuff on my mind,” she said, cursing herself for allowing the words to slip out of her mouth.

 

“You want to talk about it?”

 

“No, Quinn, I don’t,” she said sharply, turning to face the girl with her hands on her hips. “Since when do we ever talk about anything? And why do you suddenly care?”

 

Quinn took a small step back, a look that, if Santana didn’t know better, could be mistaken for hurt flashing across her perfect features. “Maybe since now? I guess I’m tired of trying to deal with everything on my own. You’re my best friend, Santana. Sure, we step all over each other sometimes, we steal each other’s boyfriends and slap each other silly when the mood takes us but I love you, you know? And I’ve always got your back.”

 

Santana fought back the urge to cry. Jesus, what was with her recently? It must be hormones or something. “Thanks, Q. But I’m fine, honestly.”

 

Quinn observed her closely for a few seconds and then nodded. “Alright. Well, I’m here if you change your mind. Come on,” she threw her arm round her shoulder as they carried on walking. “Let’s go get a slushie.”

 

* * *

  


“Lopez! Wait up.”

 

She sighed and turned around. “What’s up, Puckerman?”

 

“Got plans Friday?” He drawled, draping his arm around her shoulder and leading her down the hallway.

 

“Nothing special. Why?”

 

“Party at the Puck house, you in?”

 

“Sure,” she smiled. She could use a good party. “Who else is going?”

 

“The usual crowd, plus any new hotties you can dig up,” he smirked with a wave at a passing group of cheerleaders. “I guess I should invite the glee kids too.”

 

“No, don’t do that,” she said quickly.

 

“Why not? They’re alright once you get a few drinks in them.”

 

“Come on, Puckerman!” Santana stopped and threw her hands up. “We already risk ruining our reputations every day by associating with them, why do we have to hang out with them outside of school as well?”

 

“Woah, what crawled up your ass?”

 

“Nothing! I am just so sick of this shit,” she sighed, leaning against the locker and gazing around the crowded hallway. “This time last year we were set, you know? We were only sophomores and already we were one of the most powerful couples in school, you, me, Quinn and Finn, we should have been ruling this school by now and instead look at us; you got locked in a portable toilet, I’m vying for Cheerios captain with a teen mom and a raging bitch with an extra chromosome, and we’re one step away from being slushied every time we set foot outside a classroom! Our stock has plummeted, Puckerman. Do you really want to see if it can fall further?”

 

“Since when do you care about that stuff?”

 

“Since always, Puck, have you met me?”

 

“Well, yeah, but I just figured you got over that shit, you know?” Puck frowned and leaned heavily next to her. “You’re Santana Lopez. No one messes with you. You’re the baddest bitch at this school and I always just assumed you didn’t really give a fuck what they thought.”

 

“Yeah, well guess again.”

 

“If you really care that much why do you stay in Glee?”

 

“I honestly don’t know,” she sighed. “I guess I just thought I could do it all, you know?”

 

“So what changed?”

 

Santana sighed again and stared into the distance until Rachel Berry walked into her line of sight. She stiffened and turned to face Puck, forcing a smile onto her face. “Nothing. Nothing changed, just forget it. I’m in for Friday but no Glee kids, alright?” She patted his face and melted into the crowd, heading down the hall and away from Rachel as fast as she could.

 

The girl had sent her a few texts during the day but she hadn’t answered them. She honestly felt bad about it but she had no idea what to say and she hoped Berry would just get the message and leave her alone. It wasn’t like she was the innocent party here, she was the one who had initiated things every time, Santana had just been swept up in the moment.

 

Despite herself she looked back down the corridor and saw that Rachel had stopped to talk to Puck. She heaved a sigh of relief and carried on towards her final class. No way was she going to Glee. She didn’t feel much like singing and dancing today.

 


	5. Chapter 5

Chapter 5

 

Rachel turned the corner and saw Santana leaning against the lockers talking to Puck. The girl looked sad and she felt a pang of regret. She paused briefly and looked around her, unexpected anger building up in her at the happy faces swarming around her. She walked forward and looked back up just as Santana pushed into the crowd and moved quickly away from her. She sighed heavily and walked over to where Puck was staring after Santana’s retreating form.

 

“Hi Noah,” she greeted him with as much cheer as she could muster. “How are you?”

 

“Hey,” he smiled down at her. “How’s my favourite jewish princess today?”

 

“I’m fine, thank you. What’s going on?”

 

“Not much. Just, you know, making plans, tearing shit up. The usual.”

 

“Honestly, Noah,” she rolled her eyes at him. “I don’t know why you insist on cursing so much. You really have an excellent vocabulary when you set your mind to it.”

 

“Yeah, whatever. What can I do for you, Berry?”

 

“Nothing, I just…” Rachel looked at the floor and pushed her hair behind her ear. “How’s Santana?”

 

Puck turned his head slowly towards her, a curious expression on his face. “Why do you ask?”

 

“No reason,” she said quickly. “I just...she looked...a little...unhappy.”

 

“Yeah, well, she’s Santana,” he shrugged, his eyes searching her face. “That’s how she looks like ninety five percent of the time.”

 

“Granted but she seemed…” Rachel looked down the hall at the girl’s rapidly retreating form and shook her head. “Never mind.”

 

“Something going on with you two?”

 

“What? With me and…? No. Of course not,” she said with a hollow chuckle. “What could possibly be going on with me and Santana? She’s made it perfectly clear she can’t stand me.”

 

“Yeah,” Puck drawled, folding his arms with a smirk. “What are you doing Friday night, Berry?”

 

* * *

 

  


Rachel threw her pen down on her desk and rubbed her eyes tiredly. She had finally finished the biology assignment but she knew it wasn’t her best work, her mind was most decidedly elsewhere. She picked up her phone and checked messages, fully aware that Santana would not have texted her back but disappointed nonetheless. She wished the girl would just talk to her. She didn’t understand the way Santana was acting, but then again she didn’t really understand the way she was acting either.

 

She pushed her chair away from the desk with a long sigh and wandered over to her bed, her phone dangling uselessly in her hand. This whole situation was so confusing and it was driving her crazy. All her life she had known exactly what she wanted and what she had to do to get it but with Santana that was all different. She had thought she knew what she was doing when the latina had first responded to her. She ran her hand over the bed at the memory but she felt no pleasure from it this time, only sadness and and a longing that she couldn’t seem to fight. Why couldn’t she just get over this? Clearly Santana wanted nothing to do with her and if she kept this up much longer she knew the girl would snap and there would be no apology.

 

She looked down a phone again and tapped out a short message, annoyed with herself for her repeated attempts to force a line of communication but unable to stop. She was Rachel Berry after all, and Rachel Berry was nothing if not persistent.

 

_I just wanted to let you know that I have completed the biology assignment. I hope to see you in class tomorrow._

 

She threw the phone down on the bed and headed to her bathroom to complete her nightly ritual. As she washed, cleansed and moisturised she thought about Noah’s invitation. Her experience with parties was limited and she had never been to one of his before but she had heard the stories, everyone had. Puckerman parties were the stuff of legend at McKinley and she had been surprised when he invited her, even though he had told her he was inviting all of the Glee club. She knew there would be drinking involved but hopefully Santana would be more inclined to talk after a few drinks.

 

She got changed and walked back into her bedroom, dropping her clothes into the hamper as she passed by and settling herself into bed. She picked up her phone to set her alarm and felt her heart skip a beat as she saw a message from Santana.

 

_Thanks._

 

It wasn’t much but it was the first she had heard from the girl since the auditorium. She forced herself to set the phone back down without responding and pulled the covers over her, a small smile on her face.

 

* * *

  


The following morning Rachel waited nervously for Santana to arrive and take her seat next to her in biology. She had their assignment in front of her on the desk and was trying to give it a last read through in an effort to distract herself. So far it was not working.

 

She glanced up, her stomach giving an uncomfortable lurch as Santana sauntered through the doorway, her Cheerios uniform hugging her curves criminally, her eyes covered by dark glasses, her jaw and lips moving sensuously as she chewed gum, something Rachel was painfully aware should not be so sexy.

 

She sucked in a ragged breath as Santana slid into the vacant seat next to her, the outcome of which was her inhaling a huge waft of the girl’s scent, doing nothing to calm her racing heart. This situation was getting wildly out of control. She cleared her throat and tried to focus, or at least act normal.

 

“Good morning, Santana. Would you like to read through the assignment?”

 

“Nah, I’m sure it’s fine,” she drawled, inspecting her nails.

 

“Are you sure you don’t want to check?”

 

“Berry, you wrote it. It’s highly unlikely to be anything less than perfect.”

 

“I’m not so sure about that,” she muttered. “I have been a little distracted lately.”

 

She felt Santana tense up slightly next to her and risked a cautious glance at her from the corner of her eye. Her jaw was clenched tight and her left hand was gripping the edge of the table but she said nothing. The pair of them let out a sigh of relief as Mrs Warbuton rushed into the room and began the class, the rest of the period passing without them speaking again.

 

When the bell rang to signal the end of the lesson Santana was up and out the door like a shot and all Rachel could do was watch her leave and hope she wouldn’t skip Glee again. She just didn’t know what to do. How was she supposed to sort out her feelings when Santana couldn’t bear to be in her company long enough to talk them through? She supposed that should tell her all she needed to know but there was something about the other girl’s behaviour that led her to cling to that tiny sliver of hope.

 

She nodded her head as she gathered her books and headed out of the room. She would go to Puck’s party and she would find a way to get Santana alone and talk this out. She was nothing if not tenacious and this was a situation that required every bit of her unwavering focus. Now all she needed was an outfit that would distract Santana long enough to lead her away and she knew just who to go to for help.

 

* * *

  


Kurt tutted as he rifled through her closet, flinging the occasional outfit onto the bed but showing his general displeasure with a gusto that was bordering on soul destroying.

“Good God, what is this?” He sputtered, holding up a particularly offensive item.

 

“That’s the dress I wore for my sweet sixteenth!” Rachel cried, folding her arms across her stomach with a scowl.

 

“And no one told you you looked like Countess Bathory?”

 

“I don’t know who that is but my fathers loved it, as did our guests.”

 

“Who were your guests?”

 

“No one you would know.”

 

“Rachel, we go to the same high school,” he countered as he turned to face her. “And Lima is a small town. I know everyone you know.”

 

She flushed and picked at her bedspread. “This really isn’t the point of this project, Kurt.”

 

He put a hand on his heart and gave her a pitying look before turning back to the closet, his noises of disdain tempered for a few moments until he came across another horror.

 

“Seriously, Rachel, you grew up with gay dads and these are the clothes you own? Are you sure they’re gay?”

 

“Kurt!”

 

“Alright, I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to….wait a minute,” he pushed the clothes apart dramatically and stared into the closet. “What is this? This I can work with.”

 

“What?” Rachel paled as she looked at the outfit. “No. No, Kurt, that’s a Halloween costume!”

 

“Rachel, did you or did you not ask me here to help you find, and I quote, ‘an outfit that would make someone lose their mind for approximately two minutes’? Granted, the request did not provide as much information as I would normally insist upon, but it’s you so any change would be an improvement.”

 

Rachel rolled her eyes and flopped back on the bed. “Fine. But I can’t go out just like that. I’d look ridiculous.”

 

“Agreed,” he smiled, biting his tongue against the other responses bubbling up in his brain. “But I still don’t know why you won’t just tell me who it is you want to make lose their mind.”

 

“Because telling you would be tantamount to broadcasting it on the local news,” she sighed, her hands over her eyes.

 

“Ouch,” Kurt deadpanned, shooting a look at her before turning back to the outfit. “Okay, just answer me one question : boy or girl?”

 

Rachel pulled her hands away from her face and sat up slowly. “Why do you ask?”

 

“Because boys and girls have very different tastes,” he said slowly, sitting down on the edge of her bed and looking at her strangely. “But I never expected that response. Is it a girl?”

 

“Honestly, Kurt?” Rachel glared at him. “That’s your issue with this? What difference does it make?”

 

“It makes all the difference! Like I said, girls are attracted to very different styles to boys and I need to know my target audience before I create my masterpiece.” Kurt paused and leaned away from her, resting his weight on his left hand. “Aside from that this would be the first time, that I know of, and I like to think I know every even remotely gay thing that goes on in this hick town, that you have had feelings for a lady. Am I wrong?”

 

Rachel pursed her lips and held his gaze, an internal debate raging as her fingers fidgeted with the edge of her skirt. Could she verbalize it? Could she tell Kurt the secret she had been struggling with for the last four months? Sure they had had a strange sort bond when he had been at McKinley but it had been more based on a shared feeling of ostracism and a love of musical theater than friendship and if she told him she had no doubt he would tell Mercedes and then Mercedes would tell Tina, Tina would tell Artie and then…

 

“Rachel,” he put a hand on her knee, interrupting her thoughts. “It’s alright, I withdraw my question. Although it would explain your wardrobe. Lesbians have dreadful taste.”

 

“Kurt,” she muttered. “That’s a very outdated stereotype.”

 

“Hmm, if you say so,” he said as he rose from the bed and held the outfit up in front of him.

 

“How’s Dalton?” Rachel asked to change the subject. “And Blaine?”

 

“Dalton’s good. Blaine is still failing to be swayed my charms. I’m starting to believe he may have a blindspot for men with exceptional talent and taste.” Kurt smiled as he pressed his hand to his chest and batted his eyelashes.

 

“I’m sure you’ll win him over. How could you not?”

 

“Quite easily it would seem, given my track record.”

 

“What track record? This is the second boy you’ve liked since I’ve known you and the first one was straight!”

 

“Or so it appeared…” he raised an eyebrow at her before turning back to the closet.

 

“Oh, come on,” she laughed. “Finn is definitely straight, it’s a totally different thing.”

 

“Was that an admission, Ms Berry?”

 

Rachel blushed slightly as she realised her error and thought desperately how to get out of it. Thankfully Kurt still had his back to her as he rifled through her clothes in his quest to find something he approved of. “No, I’m just saying that Finn would be less likely to be tempted by someone of the same sex than I. Much less likely.”

 

“But it’s not Finn we’re trying to snare?”

 

“No, definitely not.”

 

“Is it Quinn?”

 

“What?” Rachel practically choked. “No! Why would it be Quinn?”

 

“You two always had a bit of a weird vibe,” he shrugged as he pulled out a pale blue jacket with shoulder pads, a look of horror on his face.

 

“She hated me and thought I was trying to steal her boyfriend, it wasn’t that weird.”

 

“Yes, and then dealt with that by occasionally sticking up for you, befriending you, asking yours truly to give you a makeover, trying to get Finn to cheat on you with her because you asked her to...weird.”

 

“I…” Rachel frowned at his litany. “Hmm, I guess it could seem a little strange.”

 

“Oh, my God!” Kurt shrieked.

 

“What?!” Rachel jumped off the bed and rushed to his side only to be forced back as he held up a little black jacket that she had bought for an audition.

 

“Where did you get this? Why don’t you wear this every day instead of those hideous sweaters?”

 

“Because it’s a costume, Kurt,” she sighed, tired of the clothing related insults now. “I bought it to audition for Lima Junction Players production of Grease 2.”

 

He dropped his hand and gave her a strange look. “Someone actually thought it would be a good idea to stage a production of Grease 2?”

 

“I happen to think it’s highly underrated.”

 

“You would,” he deadpanned as he wandered over to the black skirt he had pulled out earlier and held the jacket up next to her. “Anyway, it’s perfect. She’ll love it. It’s totally her style.”

 

Rachel looked on as Kurt held up a bright red shirt against the clothes, her heart beating a little faster as she saw he was right. If she just had the confidence to act like she always wore this kind of outfit outside of school then Santana would...wait…

 

“What?” She asked, her mouth dry. “Whose style?”

 

“Santana’s,” he shrugged, an amused look on his face. “Now, makeup. I would say…”

 

“Kurt,” she held her hand up and shook her head. “Why...what makes you think it’s Santana?”

 

“Well, first off she’s gorgeous and so sexy I’m sure everyone who has ever met her has questioned their sexuality at least once. I know I have,” he smiled and pushed at his perfectly coiffed hair. “Then I realised that if we were together I would just want to dress her up all day and that’s kind of the opposite of what you’re meant to want to do, so…”

 

“Kurt…”

 

“Sorry, off topic. Secondly, the way you two constantly antagonise each other was only ever going to end one of two ways, and neither of you is dead so you must be sleeping with each other.”

 

“Kurt!”

 

“Rachel!” Kurt threw his hands up dramatically. “I know what my name is, you don’t have to keep saying it! And stop acting so scandalised. If you’re not sleeping with each other already you will be after you show up to Puck’s party dressed like this. So do you want to act all prudish and deny the fact that you have blatantly succumbed to La Lopez’s rather obvious charms, or do you want to get over here and work on your makeup choices?”

  
Rachel stared at him for a few seconds as she weighed up her options before sighing and walking towards her bathroom. “The second one.”


	6. Chapter 6

Chapter 6

 

Santana poured herself a healthy measure of Jack Daniel’s and sloshed a bit of coke on top, deciding against ice as she watched Azimio wander into the kitchen with his hand tucked down his pants before grabbing a cup and filling it with ice from the bucket. She wrinkled her nose in disgust and wandered out into the living room, her eyes scanning the mass of writhing bodies for someone she knew, or someone she’d like to.

 

The house was rammed and particularly here, on the makeshift dancefloor, she could barely move without people bumping into her or, more accurately, up against her. She wasn’t all that surprised, her outfit was amazing and she knew how to work a room. Usually she would be all over this shit but tonight for some reason she just wasn’t feeling it and the constant groping of her butt was starting to wear a little thin.

 

She sighed and took a swig of her drink as she wandered over towards the garden door, pulling her cigarettes out of her purse as she went. She lit up as she finally got outside and leaned against the wall as she stared out into the darkness and tried not to think.

 

“Can I bum one of those?”

 

“Sure,” she said as she handed the pack over to Quinn, grateful for the girl’s distracting presence.

 

“You don’t seem to be having a very good time.”

 

“It’s fine, I guess, I’m just…”

 

“...tired?”

 

Santana shot her friend a withering look and took another drag. Quinn chuckled softly and leaned against the wall next to her, an easy silence settling between them.

 

“Do you ever wonder what the hell happened to our lives?” Quinn asked after a moment.

 

“You could say it’s been on my mind,” she chuckled dryly.

 

“My Grandma always said ‘you want to give God a laugh, tell him your plans for the future’.”

 

“Smart lady.”

 

“It just seems like this last year has just...I don’t know, taken everything I thought I knew and completely destroyed it, you know?” Quinn, turned to face her. “Like I learned a script and studied the part only to walk on stage and realise everyone else learned it in French.”

 

“Jesus, Q,” she laughed, grinding her cigarette out in the dirt. “You’ve been spending too much time with Berry.”

“Not as much time as you, it seems.” Quinn shot her a wink as she took a last drag. “Speaking of whom, she just walked in.”

 

“Are you serious?” Santana dropped her head back against the wall with a sigh. “Puck promised not to invite the Glee kids.”

 

“Santana,” Quinn rested her hand against her friend’s forearm gently. “I think we’ve reached the stage where you’re just going to have to admit that we are the Glee kids.”

 

She turned her face towards Quinn with a scowl. “That would be acceptance. I am still firmly clinging to denial.”

 

Quinn dropped her head quickly, a smile tugging at the corner of her mouth. “Yes, well that is definitely a discussion for a drunker time,” she held a hand up at Santana’s embarrassed protest. “Just go distract Rachel, would you? I don’t want her anywhere near Finn tonight. She’s wearing an outfit that will probably make him pass out.”

 

“Pass out how?” Santana asked with narrowed eyes. “Like with revulsion? Is it the pantsuit again?”

 

“Definitely not the pantsuit,” she laughed as she turned towards the house. “Go see for yourself.”

 

Santana watched as her friend made her way back into the party, her skin prickling with heat at Quinn’s insinuation. Rachel was here and she was wearing an outfit that would make Finn lose his shit, presumably in a good way, the idea of which filled her with her with an unnamable terror and an unhealthy dose of lust. Then again, this was information received from Quinn who, aside from her Skank phase, had an obsession with baby doll dresses and ludicrous hats, so maybe Rachel’s outfit wasn’t as severe as she made out.

 

With a sigh she pushed away from the wall and slowly walked back to the party. With any luck she’d bump into Britt and spend the evening dancing with her whilst her overtly cheerful boyfriend watched. Better to keep herself occupied with her annoyingly off limits best friend than fall deeper down the rabbit hole that was Rachel Berry.

 

As soon as she entered the room she knew that wasn’t going to happen. Rachel was standing about ten feet from her, hands braced against Azimio’s chest, a forced smile on her face as he attempted to dance with her, if his definition of ‘dance’ was ‘mount’. She had on a short black skirt with a slit up the left hand side, showing off her ridiculously long, hot, toned, unreasonable for a person of her height, legs to their full advantage, a black leather (although surely it couldn’t be real leather, Rachel was a vegan. Wait, how the hell do I know that?) jacket with three quarter length sleeves, and a tight, bright red, low cut top that devastatingly showed off what Santana already knew Rachel was hiding under those animal print sweaters.

 

She forced herself to get it together as she realised she was acting like a cartoon character, shook her head slightly to clear the haze that had melted her brain like acid fog, and strode purposefully over to the couple.

 

“Excuse me, Azimio, I need to borrow your dwarf for just a sec,” she smiled sweetly at him before pushing in between them and grabbing Rachel’s arm. “Drink?”

 

She all but dragged Rachel off the dancefloor and into the kitchen, pinching the bridge of her nose as she went and asking herself what she was doing. She was supposed to be avoiding the girl, not dragging her away from potential suitors. Her stomach rolled uncomfortably at the image of Berry and Azimio and she grabbed the nearest bottle, taking a healthy swig before holding it out to the shorter girl.

 

“Uh, no, thank you,” she smiled up at her, tucking her hair behind her ears in that adorable way she did. Adorable? Nuh uh, get a grip Lopez. “I just got here so maybe something a little less strong?”

 

Santana nodded as she swallowed whatever it was, wincing slightly at the burn and heading over to the fridge, her mind officially overloaded but determined to find something in there. Anything. Didn’t matter that it made about as much sense as Marcellus Wallace’s suitcase when she opened the door and the light hit her eyes. Just find something. No, not lettuce, something to drink.

 

“Less strong? Is that right?” Rachel babbled behind her. “It sounds like it shouldn’t be right. Like a juxtaposition, you know? Is it a juxtaposition? Maybe it’s a…”

 

“Berry,” she sighed, her fingers gratefully wrapping around a beer. She slammed the fridge shut and popped the lid off before handing it to the girl. “Ssshh.”

 

“Sorry,” she said with a sheepish grin, accepting the bottle gratefully. “I am a little thrown, I just walked in and wasn’t expecting such a… warm reception.”

 

“Well, you, ah,” Santana shook her head and waved her hand uselessly up and down in front of Rachel’s outfit to indicate her meaning. It was remarkably similar to what the girl had been wearing one of the times she’d dreamed about her. Not that that was a regular occurrence. Obviously. She chuckled to herself and shook her head. “Well done.”

 

Rachel smiled shyly and took a step towards her. “You like it?”

 

“Yes,” she said before she could stop herself. Jesus, what was in that bottle? “I mean, it’s, um, a departure from your usual fetish wear so that’s definitely a plus.”

 

Rachel frowned slightly and nodded as she took another drink. Santana looked blindly round the kitchen, not having a clue what had happened to her own drink. Had she accidentally dropped it when she first caught sight of Rachel? God, she hoped not, that would be embarrassing. As a distraction she hastily poured herself a fresh one, absently grabbing some ice out of the bucket as she poured a ridiculous amount of liquor into her cup.

 

“So,” she said with a cough, willing herself to get it together. “I didn’t expect to see you here.”

 

“Hmm,” Rachel nodded as she swallowed her drink. “I was a little surprised to be invited myself but Puck said all the Glee kids were coming. I haven’t seen any of them, though.”

 

“Well, you’ve seen me.” Santana replied as she lifted her cup to her lips, a little hurt by the thought that Rachel didn’t see her as one of the Glee kids.

 

“Obviously, but you know what I mean,” she replied, picking nervously at the label on her bottle. “Like, Artie, Tina, Mercedes. The original ones. The ones who aren’t…”

 

“Aren’t what?” Santana spat, an unexpected rage building in her at Rachel’s words. “Lying? Pretending? Spying?”

 

“I was going to say popular,” Rachel frowned. “Why, do you think that’s how I see you?”

 

“What? No, I…” she shook her head to try and clear her brain. What the fuck was she saying? Seriously, what was in that bottle? She dropped her gaze to it as she tried to answer the question. “I honestly have no idea how you see me, Rachel.”

 

A silence settled over them as her eyes focussed on the offending bottle, the bright green liquid sparking an alarm signal in her head just as her brain registered the name on the label. Absinthe. Oh, shit.

 

“Oh, shit,” she whispered.

 

“Are you okay?” Rachel asked softly as she took another step towards her, stepping back again quickly as Santana started to laugh uncontrollably.

 

“Who the fuck brought Absinthe to a high school party?”

 

“What?”

 

“And left it in the kitchen?” Santana leant on the counter as her giggles got the better of her. This was not going to end well. She had taken a big swig of that shit. No wonder it had burned.

 

“Santana, are you okay?” Rachel asked, her hand on her arm as she picked up the bottle. “I know it’s strong but it doesn’t have the same...properties as it used to.”

 

“Don’t worry, Berry, I’m not losing my mind,” she straightened, wiping the tears from under her eyes as she laughed. “At least not over that. I’m just, Jesus, you should have some. Get on my level.”

 

Rachel looked at her with wide eyes and then back at the bottle, a determined grin settling on her lips as she took the lid off and held it between them. “Cheers,” she said as she raised the bottle to her lips.

 

“Wait, don’t!” Santana cried, reaching out too late as Rachel took a swig and grimaced as the liquid hit her tastebuds. To her credit the girl held it in and swallowed it, her bright eyes meeting Santana’s triumphantly as she caught her breath.

 

“Do you have some sugar and a lighter?” She asked breathlessly.

 

“Why?” Santana asked, her eyes narrowing.

 

“You know there’s only one way to drink this properly.”

 

* * *

 

  
Santana cackled as she burst into the room, Rachel’s hands on her waist as she stumbled in behind her. The door slammed shut as they fell on to the bed and the room echoed with their laughter as they lay side by side. They had left the kitchen half an hour earlier, full to the brim of people lining up for their flaming Absinthe shots long after the bottle had run dry. Since then they had been on the dancefloor, putting on a show for anyone paying attention but mostly just having a great time, each of them showing the other their best drunken dance moves, until Finn had stumbled over and tried to take Rachel away.

 

“You realise you just basically told him you were coming up here to fuck me?” Santana laughed.

 

“Yes,” Rachel replied, sitting up and trying to catch her breath. “You realise you didn’t even attempt to argue?”

 

“Yes,” she laughed again. “How could I argue with that? The look on his face! He looked like his brain was melting and he didn’t know whether he was angry or horny!”

 

“That well may be,” Rachel chuckled. “But it doesn’t change the fact that what I said was the truth, Santana.”

 

Santana’s laughter died down as she tried to focus on what exactly it was that Rachel had said. Something about attraction? She tilted her head slightly to try to recall the words but was distracted by Rachel’s hand sliding over her stomach and her lips pressing against her own. She started in surprise before sinking into the kiss, letting the feeling wash over her, her insides melting at the shorter girl’s touch.

 

She closed her eyes and Rachel kissed her with an intensity that took her breath away, the accompanying moan making her wetter than she had ever been in her life. She pulled the brunette on top of her, gently grazing her fingers up the extent of her exposed thigh, her scalp tingling as the girl ran her fingers through her hair.

 

She rocked her hips up against her in desperation. All the times she had imagined this moment paled in comparison to what she was feeling. Her lips moved to her neck and her hand started massaging Rachel’s breast as the other dropped down to her hip. Her senses were overloaded and she moaned as Rachel grabbed at her thighs. Tantalisingly slowly Santana trailed her fingers under her skirt and in between her legs.

 

“Oh, God, Santana…”

 

“Jesus,” she whispered, kissing her softly. “You’re so wet.”

 

“Fuck…”

 

Santana pressed against her, gently at first, tracing a pattern softly against her underwear over her clit before spreading her fingers and running them more insistently on either side, teasing around the area until Rachel was bucking up into her like a maniac.

 

“Is this what you’ve been thinking about?” Santana panted in her ear.

 

“Unh...yes…”

 

Abruptly Santana pulled away and sat up causing Rachel to grunt in frustration and snap her eyes open, her hand reaching out for her again.

 

“What are you…?”

 

She gave Rachel a devilish smirk as she pulled her top over her head, reaching around to unhook her bra and sucking in a breath as Rachel eagerly repeated her actions. With a speed that bordered on reckless they undressed each other and Santana dropped her head between Rachel’s legs, kissing the inside of her thigh and running her tongue up towards the apex gently, sending Rachel’s body into spasm as it connected with her center.

 

“Oh, fuuu….aah,” Rachel’s hands reached out blindly, for Santana, for the bed, for the headboard, anything to ground her as Santana’s tongue sent her crazy. “God, Santana…”

 

Finally her hands settled in Santana’s hair, fingers flexing as her tongue wound her up to the point where she was writhing, moaning, racing towards the sweetest oblivion she could imagine. Her head tipped back, her lungs gasping for air as everything in her focussed on the excruciating pleasure Santana was stirring between her legs, spots flashing in her eyes as the blood pounded in her ears.

 

Her head rocked drunkenly, her stomach trembling as her orgasm built, her fingers tightening in Santana’s hair as her thighs wrapped around her head, a guttural moan ripping from her throat as she fell apart, her body on fire. She collapsed back onto the bed, shockwaves rolling through her as Santana flicked her tongue lightly back and forth across her clit expertly, teasingly.

 

Eventually Santana crawled back up, running her hands over Rachel’s body as she breathed heavily, kissing her roughly as she ground down into her insistently. Tasting herself on Santana’s mouth caused Rachel’s eyes to roll back into her head and she shoved her hand between Santana’s legs, fingers slipping easily through the wetness until she found her goal, causing her breath to catch, a deep moan breaking free of her lips as Rachel hand went right where she needed her to be. The brunette moved her fingertips back and forth as she rocked into her, moaning deeply as she slid her lips up her neck.

 

“Rach…” she breathed, her body reacting in an unprecedented way. “Rachel…oh, God...oh…”

 

Rachel put her hand to Santana’s face, trying to pull her back into a kiss, but she pushed herself into the crook of her neck and sucked on her pulse point insistently, the emotions and sensations rushing through her body threatening to overwhelm her. Rachel grabbed at her thigh, pulling her in tighter, bucking up into and forcing her closer to the edge. She shot one arm blindly out towards the headboard, gripping one of the bars tightly as she rushed towards her climax, her moans rising in intensity as she pushed her face into Rachel’s neck, her eyes slamming closed as she came harder than she had ever known possible, her body trembling with exertion as she clung to Rachel in a daze.

 

They lay there for a few moments, locked together, panting into each other as they came down, running their hands along any available skin.

 

“Well,” Santana chuckled after a while. “That didn’t suck.”

 

“Please don’t run away again,” Rachel whispered into her hair.

 

Immediately the post orgasmic bubble burst and Santana’s fear started to creep back in. She sighed deeply and pushed herself off of Rachel, tensing up as the girl grabbed her arms and tried to hold her in position.

 

“No, please don’t go, I’m sorry, I shouldn’t have…”

 

“It’s cool, Berry, I just need to…”

 

“Don’t do this again, please?” Rachel sighed, dropping her right hand from Santana’s arm to cover her own eyes.

 

“Do what, Berry? I’m just…”

 

“Just stop it!” Rachel said angrily, pushing her up as she sat. “Stop with the ‘Berry’, stop with the act, okay, stop all of it and just talk to me!”

 

“I don’t want to talk to you, don’t you get it?” Santana snapped back as she allowed her fear to take over.

 

“Right,” Rachel said after a moment, her gaze dropping to the floor and a tight smile on her face.

 

“Rachel…” she reached out her hand to the girl, already regretting what she had said, pulling back slightly as Rachel slapped it away and sat up on her knees.

 

“No, it’s fine, I get it now. This is about sex, nothing more. I’m not dense, Santana, that was all you had to say. That’s why you don’t want to talk to me, that’s why you won’t look at me, I get it.”

 

“I…”

 

“If you had told me sooner this could have gone a lot differently,” she said with a weird smile as she pushed at Santana’s shoulder to move her back onto the bed. “Come on, turn over.”

 

“What?”

 

“Turn over.”

 

“Why?”

 

“So I can give you what you want,” Rachel said, her voice thick as she managed to manouevre her into a kneeling position, her hands out in front of her.

 

“Rachel,” Santana said as she looked back over her shoulder at her, the remnants of the alcohol and the strange turn the conversation had taken leaving her extremely confused. “What are you doing?”

 

“Well this is what you want, isn’t it?” she shot back, moving behind her and dragging her nails down Santana’s back roughly. “Impersonal, no chance of accidental eye contact, just hot, dirty sex.”

 

Her cheeks burned as she realised what Rachel was getting at and she stared down at the bed as her heart sank. “Don’t,” she said quietly as she sat up.

 

“Why not?” Rachel breathed into her ear, running her hands slowly up her biceps. “I could be anyone you want me to be back here, Santana. I won’t even talk.”

 

“I don’t want you to be anyone else, Rachel!” Santana said hotly as she pushed her hands away and got quickly off the bed. “God, what is wrong with you?”

 

“What’s wrong with me?” She laughed, kneeling on the edge of the bed, eyes glistening. “That’s rich coming from you!”

 

Santana dropped her head and looked for her clothes, a lump forming in her throat as she tried to cover herself. “Fuck you.”

 

“Yeah, you just did. Again. But what I don’t understand is why?” Rachel said angrily. “You obviously can’t stand me so why do it? It’s not like you couldn’t have your pick of anyone at this party so why me? Do you hate me that much?”

 

“I could ask you the same thing,” she snapped back, her hands trembling as tried to hook her bra. “Finn was so turned on you could see it from across the room, yet you’re up here with me. Are you just trying to make him jealous?”

 

“Of course not, I already told you I’m not interested in Finn anymore.”

 

“So what, then? Why do you keep coming after me?” Santana said, throwing her hands up in exasperation. “Why can’t you just leave me alone?”

 

“Because I can’t stop thinking about you!” Rachel cried, dropping down onto her haunches as tears started to slide down her cheeks. “And believe me, I’ve tried. I know you don’t want me, Santana, you’ve made it pretty obvious. I just...I didn’t mean for this to happen tonight. I just wanted to talk to you.”

 

Santana pulled the up the zip on the side of her dress and turned to go. The door was right there, tantalisingly close, and yet she couldn’t seem to make herself move. Rachel thought she hated her. She could just leave her thinking that, it would be so much easier. Everyone thought she was a bitch anyway, why bother correcting them? These feelings she had for the girl were scaring the shit out of her and they obviously weren’t doing Rachel much good either so it was better that she just walked away.

 

Still, she couldn’t leave the girl like this. She just needed to suck it up and talk to her, make her see there was no future in this. With a sigh she bent down and picked up Rachel’s clothes, moving slowly to sit on the edge of the bed as she held them out.

 

“I don’t hate you, Rachel,” she said softly. “I’m sorry I made you feel like I did.”

 

Rachel grabbed at the clothes with one hand and wiped at her face with the other. “I just don’t understand.”

 

“That makes two of us,” she answered with a hollow laugh.

 

“What does that mean?”

 

“It means…” she stared at the wall as she tried to pick her words. “I don’t know what it means.”

 

“But you’ve thought about it?”

 

“Of course I’ve thought about it.” Santana shook her head and stared at her hands. “I can’t stop thinking about it.”

 

Rachel got dressed in silence and then moved to sit next to her. Santana could feel her eyes boring into her like she was trying to see inside her head. Good luck trying to work out what was going on in there, she thought with a sigh.

 

“I wish you would talk to me.”

 

“I wish I could,” she said sadly as she ran her palms up and down her thighs.

 

“Could you try?”

 

Santana straightened her back and stared at the opposite wall, every instinct in her telling her to run but something holding her in her position. “I don’t think so.”

 

“Why not?”

 

“Because I’m scared, Rachel!” She spat out, her head whipping round to face her angrily as something fell apart inside her. “I think about you all the time and I can’t stop it and when I’m with you I can’t look at you because I feel you can see everything that’s going on with me and when you kiss me or touch me it feels for a second like everything could be okay but I know it won’t because how could it? How could everything be okay when it’s so wrong?”

 

She shook her head and cursed her mind for choosing this moment to sort out what had been bothering her, dropping her head into her hands as the tears started to fall down her face. She just wanted to run but she was too tired, so tired of dealing with this shit and just wanting it to stop. She just wanted an easy life, a normal life, but this thing was just bringing into sharp focus the fact that that was not going to happen. Everything was different now. She just had to accept it. She could no longer deny the fact that she was gay and the person who had brought it out of her was Rachel Berry.

 

Slowly she became aware of Rachel’s arm around her shoulders and a soft hand gently wiping away her tears. “Why do you think it’s wrong?”

 

“Because.”

 

“Because?”

 

“Because look at where we live. Look at where we’re from. Where I’m from.”

 

Rachel’s hand gently but firmly cupped her cheek and pulled her face up. “Where you’re from doesn’t determine where you’re going to go, Santana. And I know it’s not easy but it’s getting better every day. The more visible gay people are the more society will see that it’s not a choice and there’s nothing wrong with it. And you, Santana Lopez,” she said with a smile. “Would be an exceptional figurehead.”

 

“I don’t want to be a fucking figurehead, I just want my life back!”

 

“But this is your life,” Rachel put both hands on her face and stared deeply into her eyes. “Accepting that you’re gay doesn’t change who you are, it just allows you to fully realise who you’ve always been. And I know you’re scared but you’re not alone.”

 

“Rachel, please don’t give me platitudes,” she sighed, gripping the girl’s wrists weakly and trying to pull her hands away. “I’ve never felt more alone in my life.”

 

Suddenly Rachel pressed their lips together, her hands moving into Santana’s hair as she kissed her deeply, tenderly, all the emotions that Santana had been bottling up rushing to the surface and leaving her breathless.

 

“You’re not alone, Santana,” she whispered after a moment. “I’m here for you, in whatever capacity you’ll have me. And I know I have it easier than you, my dads are gay, I’ve always been viewed as something of a freak, but this is also very new and confusing for me. I’ve never felt this way before. I had my whole life planned out and nowhere in that plan was there a leading lady until I met you.”

 

Santana chuckled softly as she rested her forehead on Rachel’s. “Then I guess we both would have been better off if we never met.”

 

“That wouldn’t have changed anything and I for one am extremely grateful that we did.”

 

“Yeah, me too,” she replied softly, pulling her in for another kiss as she realised she meant it with all her heart.

 

“So,” Rachel asked quietly. “What happens now?”

 

“I have no idea,” she replied honestly. “Can we just, I don’t know, take it slow? I’m not ready to throw a parade or anything.”

  
“Of course.” Rachel nodded, kissing her once more. “Although I do love a parade.”


End file.
